Sep 6, 2025
Series Link
Learning to Breathe
Don't Look Back
The Last Pirate of Lemon Town
One for Sorrow, Two for Joy
Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go?
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seen from Costa Rica
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
Series Link
Learning to Breathe
Don't Look Back
The Last Pirate of Lemon Town
One for Sorrow, Two for Joy
Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go?
???? ???? ???? ???? ????
More under the cut
I’m sorry BUT THIS HAD TO BE DONE, IT FITS SO WELL.
I have decided my prompt! Can I please have Pete, Lucius, and Izzy having a sleepover for some reason? (Maybe the apartment is being fumigated or the carpet is being replaced or something and Pete stays with Luc and Izzy?) Bonus points if one of them makes them all do traditional sleepover stuff. Also feel free to include any of the other Callahan gang!!!
(ook so this prompt was adorable and I started in on it right away and it's uh...a little past ficlet length. enjoy!)
He was halfway through making his lunches for the week when his phone buzzed. It was Lucius’ vibration pattern, two long, one short. Sundays were a weird day for him to be calling. Really calling at all. Lucius preferred to text, even if just to ask if he could call.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Our heat went out,” Lucius groaned, not even pretending everything was fine for a ribbing bit about Izzy’s phone manners. Yikes. “Two hours ago.”
“Shit.” It was a frigid night, the kind that burrowed into the bones. “What happened?”
“Don’t know yet, our landlord is still waiting on the repair tech. Apparently a lot of furnaces are failing with cold snap.”
“Come over.”
“Yeah, that’s the plan, but can I bring Pete? John and Frenchie are going to sleep in Roach’s weird second bedroom. Jim and Oluwande offered their futon-”
“It’s fine, pup.”
“Oh thank fuck, I really did not want him to be on that shitty futon. Thank you.”
“Did you eat?” Izzy asked, already mentally ticking over what was in the fridge.
“We had a lot of soup. Eating hot things was helping. Maybe just put on some decaf?”
“I can do that.”
“Kay, we’ll be there in a half hour.”
Izzy finished his lunch prep, then pushed the coffee table out of the way so they could pull out the bed when they were ready to sleep. Clean linens, blankets and pillows went out onto the coffee table in easy reach.
What the hell did one else do to prepare for an overnight guest? Last time Pete had slept over, Lucius had taken care of everything because Izzy had been concussed into uselessness.
Izzy made a pot of decaf. He washed and put away his dishes. Everything was spotless, his cleaning lady had been by just that morning. He stood uselessly in the kitchen, listening to the coffee percolate.
Izzy: emergency overnight guest. Necessities?
Mary: clean place to sleep, food and drink if needed, listening ear. Should be fine.
Izzy: thanks. how’d did Doug’s blondies go over?
Mary: he’s the king of the bake sale. The president of the PTA hit on him. I had to intervene so he didn’t blush himself to death.
Izzy: she hit on him in front of you? at a school event? Hilda really is a total waste of space.
Mary: I keep telling you. The worst. Your plan is working though. I’ll have her ousted by the end of the year.
Izzy: good.
That was when he heard the elevator. Phone back in his pocket, he got down mugs. Pete took sugar, he was pretty sure, so he put that in easy reach too.
The key turned in the lock and Lucius came in with Pete hot on his heels. Usually, Izzy would expect a hello kiss. Would he still get one? Was that weird just now?
“Hi,” Lucius groaned, crossed the room and kissed him thoroughly. Not weird. Izzy relaxed a few notches. “Thank you. I know this isn’t your favorite.”
“It’s okay,” he said readily. “There’s decaf. And clean things for the couch when you’re ready for it.”
“Beautiful,” Lucius sighed and kissed him again, then turned to coffemaker.
“Hi,” Pete had a duffel bag with him, slung over his shoulder. “We going to kiss hello too? Because I don’t do tongue unless you’re going to put out.”
“Fuck off, Black,” Izzy huffed out a laugh which made Pete grin, apparently his intent. “Put your shit down and don’t trample my cat.”
“Like Sweeney will make an appearance?” Lucius scoffed. “He’s probably trying to become one with the floor under your bed already.”
“Probably,” Izzy agreed.
“Hello couch!” Pete was saying. “We meet again. I’ve missed your warm embrace.”
“He wants to replace our living room couch,” Lucius shook his head. “So, you going to go hide with the cat or watch a movie with us?”
“I have a choice?”
“You have a choice.”
Izzy watched Lucius pour coffee, retrieving the small container of whole milk that only existed for him in the first place. This was Lucius’ home. Pete was a guest, but Lucius could host as easily as Izzy, he realized. He really could just go read in the bedroom and it wouldn’t be that weird. No one would care. Lucius would tease him, but what didn’t Lucius tease him about?
“What movie?”
“Babe! What are we watching again?”
“Uh, depends if I can remember my Hulu password or not. Izzy doesn’t have it,” Pete had the tv on already, flipping through the apps.
“We don’t?” Lucius glanced at Izzy.
“Just Netflix.”
“Huh, I never noticed. Guess because of the cable. Oh, babe! Izzy has cable. Just check on demand!”
“Cable?” Pete’s eyes went wide. “Wait, does that mean you have HBO?”
“Yeah, I’m a high fucking roller.”
“Oh shit,” Lucius groaned. “He’s been trying to get me to watch Game of Thrones forever.”
“The one with the dragons and tits?” Izzy frowned.
“That’s what I said. But apparently there’s a plot or something. Save me.”
Instead, Izzy sat on one of the couch while Lucius after a moment’s hesitation, realized he was in prime position to get the most out of his lifestyle choices for once, dropping his head onto Pete’s lap and his feet onto Izzy’s so he could get his hair pet and his feet rubbed at the same time.
“I don’t care if this show sucks ass, this is the best day of my life,” Lucius declared.
“The show doesn’t suck,” Pete rolled his eyes, turning it on. “And you said it was the worst day of your life two hours ago.”
“I was cold and no one would huddle with me for warmth.”
“I had to use the bathroom, babe.”
“Cruel abandonment.”
Izzy really hoped neither of them noticed the trouble he was having maintaining a neutral facial expression. They were fools, but they were very entertaining ones at the moment. Then the show got underway and Izzy mostly admired the fuckoff huge swords until things got weird.
“Wait. Aren’t they related?” Lucius asked and Izzy was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to voice it.
“Oh yeah, it’s a whole thing.”
Another few minutes and Izzy’s eyes went wide, “Did he just kill that kid?”
“To keep their secret! Awful right?”
“That’s so fucking stupid,” Izzy shook his head. “Kids are terrible witnesses, you just pull the little bastard inside and throw a lot of details at him until he gets confused, so he sounds weird when he tries to explain then send him on his way. You kill a kid and everyone is looking for the kid killer. It fucks up the whole thing.”
“...and it’s bad to kill kids,” Lucius filled in.
“Well fucking obviously.”
“How do you watch any kind of tv with him?” Pete asked, with what sounded like awe.
“It’s awesome,” Lucius grinned. “I learn so many new things.”
“That’s like the literal plot of the first season.”
“Yeah, cause no one else could see it coming that offing a kid is a bad idea,” Izzy huffed.
The show was grim. People were terrible and did terrible things to each other. Lucius fell asleep halfway through the second episode, apparently as a defense mechanism considering his constant grumbling.
“Does it stay like this the whole time?” Izzy asked.
“Uh, mostly? Don’t watch the last season because everyone said it was a let down.”
“Huh. Not bad,” he decided. “Might watch more.”
“I’ve got a feeling I know who you’ll wind up liking the best,” Pete grinned.
“Yeah?” Izzy wrinkled his nose. “Who?”
“No, if I tell you now, you won’t believe me.”
(It took Izzy two months to work through the show.
“Okay,” he asked as he spotted Pete on the bench press. “Who did you think would be my favorite?”
“Jaime Lannister.”
“How the fuck did you know that?”
“Let’s call it a lucky guess.”
“Who was yours?”
“Davos Seaworth.”
“Yeah, okay, good pick.” )
As soon as the noise of the show stopped, Lucius was awake. “Now I’m kind of hungry.”
“Me too,” Pete stretched. “Soup wasn’t that filling.”
“Oh! Iz, can we have toddler charcuterie?”
“What’s that?” Pete blinked.
“An Izzy special,” Lucius said solemnly.
“Read is a blabbing brat,” Izzy determined. “But yeah, fine. I could eat too.”
As soon as he was on his feet, Lucius was too, pulling down plates and cutting up the cheese while Izzy got down the crackers and found the remains of the salami that Pickles routinely devoured like it was going out of style.
“Strawberries or grapes?” He checked in.
“Grapes, thanks,” Pete watched them both with a small smile.
“What?” Izzy set down a plate in front of him.
“Nothing. It’s just nice, that’s all. Don’t get to see you two being all domestic.”
“Is it domestic if one of us isn’t fully domesticated?” Lucuis teased.
“You’ll get the hang of not biting eventually,” Izzy muttered and Pete barked out a laugh.
“Mean, so mean,” Lucius said around his own giggles. “And you wouldn’t want me to, anyway.”
The final plate looked almost like it was actually for adults, if Lucius hadn’t arranged the salami into eyes and the cheese into a lopsided smile.
“Why?” Izzy asked, aggrieved.
“So I can do this,” Pete picked up one salami eye and replaced it with a grape, “He’s a pirate now! Salami is an eyepatch.”
Izzy rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.
“Adorable,” Lucius deemed and started in on the cheese. “Oh, hey, babe, I can show you that cute pharmacy I always tell you about in the morning.”
“Which one?” Izzy blinked.
“You know that one that’s all old timey and does the nice window displays.”
“It’s just not owned by a massive chain,” Izzy shrugged. “Not really sure how they managed that.”
“It’s family-owned and the family owns the whole building,” Lucius picked up a cracker. “The girl with the Marilyn Monroe piercing, who works the register, told me when I asked.”
“Cool, I’ve got some things I could pick up,” Pete said.
“Wait that’s what that piercing is called?” Izzy caught up with the rest of Lucius’ statement. “Why?”
“Cause Marilyn Monroe had a mole there and people have thought it was cool for forever, apparently.”
“Isn’t that painful?”
“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one who got bathtub tattoos.”
“Come on,” Pete’s eyebrows went up. “You didn’t get your tattoos done in a bathtub?”
“No,” Izzy said primly, suddenly very interested in the cheese.
“Oh, I’m sorry, a bathtub might’ve been too practical,” Lucius rolled his eyes. “Bathroom floor, obviously better.”
“That was just the dagger,” he muttered.
“But you’re such a clean freak!” Pete protested.
“I was younger. Probably dumber. Definitely drunker.”
“My entire world no longer makes sense,” Pete said mournfully and finished eating his salami.
Lucius phone buzzed and he took it out, “Okay, so apparently the furnace blew...something. Anyway, they can get someone in to fix it tomorrow. So lucky you, goblin, just a hot one night stand.”
“If they get the part,” Izzy pointed out. “Either way. It’s fine.”
“Even though I’m exposing all your literally dirty secrets?”
“Yes, pup,” he touched Lucius’ wrist with a single finger, a brief point of contact. “Pete told me you two talk about me a long time ago. Figured I didn’t have many of those kinds of secrets left.”
“Pete!”
“What?” Pete asked around around a cracker. “Don’t you talk about me to him?”
“I mean, yeah, obviously,” Lucius frowned. “But I figured that was an open secret kind of thing where we don’t acknowledge it.”
Pete shrugged, “It’s not like you’re blabbing the important stuff.”
“Yeah,” Izzy agreed. “Probably be fucking weird if you never mentioned us to each other.”
“Wait.” Lucius took a step back and looked between them. “You totally gossip about me when you’re being all tough and manly at the gym, don’t you?”
“No,” they said in unison and it took everything in Izzy not to turn and glare at Pete for the distinct panic in his voice.
“Oh my god, how did I never realize that,” Lucius considered then beamed. “That’s so fucking cool. I know it’s not sex stuff because Izzy would rather die, so it’s gotta be cute other shit. Do you complain about me?”
Pete wisely said nothing and let Izzy handle that one with his interrogation-trained blankness, “Never.”
“Oooooh you do!” Lucius giggled. “Wow. Amazing.”
“You’re happy about that?” Pete checked.
“I mean, obviously I’m flawless and amazing, but I have been told by some people in this very room that I have a few irritating habits. If you two bitch at each other about them instead of at me, I think that’s a win-win.”
Izzy turned fractionally to stare at Pete until he went wide eyed and gave a nod. The truth would never be known: That they pretty much never managed to really complain because the complaints turned to endearment almost immediately. Lucius was too...Lucius for them to work up much shared annoyance. If they mostly just talked about how much they liked him and then agreed the conversation was untenable in its sickly sweetness and changed topics, that was their business.
“Sure, we all win, sweetie,” Pete managed to say with a mostly straight face. Good enough.
“You know if this is just one night, then it’s basically a sleepover,” Lucius pointed out, apparently done gnawing on that conversational bone for now. “We should do sleepover stuff?”
“Like what?” Pete grinned. “Gonna have a pillow fight? Do each other’s nails?”
“Play truth or dare?” Lucius suggested with an equally playful grin.
“None of that ends well for me,” Izzy determined.
“What do you mean?” Lucius lifted his eyebrows.
“Either my pillows get fucked or I accidently give one of you a black eye. I wind up with nail polish on and Eddy gives me the business for the next 500 years. And the two of you have no fucking shame, so it would be easy to gang up on me for truth or dare with you would absolutely do.”
“...yeah, that’s true,” Pete conceded. “We really would.”
“Aw, no fun,” Lucius gusted out a sigh. “What do people even do at sleepovers if they’re not fucking?”
“When I was a kid, mostly we kind of tortured each other,” Pete considered. “Whoever fell asleep first got covered in marker and we put their hands in warm water or shaving cream or something.”
“Don’t think I did a lot of them,” Izzy turned over memories. “Yeah, no. Stay out all night when I was older, but not sleepovers.”
“What’d you just roam the city streets?” Pete asked.
“Sure. Still shit, break windows. One guy I knew was pretty good with spray paint.”
“Hooligan,” Lucius deemed. “Sounds fun. You never got picked up?”
“Nah. We’d just scatter if we saw a cop car. They didn’t bother trying after a block or two to really nail us.”
“What about you, babe? Sleepovers?”
“No,” Lucius popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. “When I was younger Mom wouldn’t let me and once we were teenagers, didn’t have any guy friends and girls weren’t allowed to have me stay the night.”
They were all quiet for a minute.
“Wait!” Pete set down the cracker sandwich he’d been building. “Do you think that pharmacy is open now?”
“Yeah, they go until midnight,” Izzy said. “But it’s just a store.”
“Okay, sure, but one of the things we used to do was take like a few dollars and go to the corner store and see who could buy the coolest thing for less than five bucks.”
“How small was your town?” Izzy asked incredulously.
“Shut up. Small,” Pete huffed. “But it’s fun. Come on.”
“Make it ten,” Lucius grinned. “You know that nothing costs five dollars anymore.”
Which was how Izzy found himself in a pharmacy after ten o’clock at night, without actually needing emergency medical supplies for the first time in years. He hadn’t really thought much about what a place this sold that wasn’t advil, but as he went up and down the aisles there was a surprising amount of food. Pete had located a toy section and poking delightedly at some truly hideous stuffed animals. Lucius was standing in front of a wall of school supplies, apparently already having forgotten what they’d set out to do as he studied a set of colored pencils with his eyebrows knit together.
Izzy left them to it and went to where he’d been planning to go since Pete suggested the whole ridiculous idea anyway. He faced the display, gave a resigned sigh and picked up the item. Truly he had left behind any shred of dignity he’d once desperately clung too in the Revenge’s alleyway.
He bought his item first by a long shot and took his bag outside to wait. Pete came out, looking pleased with himself.
“Who’s going to judge this shit?” Izzy realized.
“Eh, there’s usually an obvious winner.”
“Seems like a way to start an argument.”
“Oh, probably. We can dial a friend to tiebreak if we need to. Everyone is probably still awake.”
Izzy was usually already in bed at this time unless he was waiting up for Lucius. Revenge people ran on a different time zone, he figured. Lucius drifted out a few minutes later and they wound up back where they’d started, with the already much depleted cheese platter once more under attack.
“Your idea, babe, you go first,” Lucius declared.
“Look at this baby,” Pete pulled out a very small plastic trashcan with a bright label. “Trashbot!”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a bot made of things found in the trash, but it’s a surprise which one you get,” he handed it to Izzy.
“Why?” He turned it over in his hands. It rattled a little, making its contents known.
“Fun. It’s a toy. You put it together, it’s a surprise, and it’s probably got a pun name.”
Izzy handed it off to Lucius, who also shook it, “I never got the garbage obsession. Garbage Can Kids were a thing when I was middle school too.”
“Gross stuff was the best,” Pete sighed, taking it back from him. “Let me build it, you’ll see. What’d you get babe?”
“Kind of also went the kid way,” he pulled out a box of markers, familiar in their bright yellow and green packaging. Then he pulled out the little notebook/sketchpad he tended to keep on him. “I always wanted these.”
“Markers?” Pete asked dubiously. “You definitely had markers.”
“Not these.” Lucius pulled out the purple, uncapped it and pressed down. When he pulled up there was a little paw print. “Stampers!”
“Are they all animal prints?” Izzy regarded the box, already guessing who’s hands those would wind up in. Pickle would be delighted.
“Hearts, stars, other little things,” Lucius made a convincing trail of paw prints. “Look how cute!”
“Very,” Pete agreed, as he worked the plastic off his toy. “Izzy?”
He set the bag down and without comment pulled out a single glass bottle of nail polish (black because black was still cool and he did have a tiny sliver of dignity left maybe).
“Awww!” Lucius snatched it up. “Izzy wins.”
“Misdirection,” Pete accused.
“Eddy already gives me a hard time and probably won’t stop until both of us are dead,” Izzy shrugged. “So it’s still true.”
“I get to do yours?” Lucius bounced on his feet.
“Yeah, yeah.”
It didn’t look bad, actually. It did mean they wound up watching something else why they dried. Pete didn’t get his done, but only because he apparently had to put on pressons tomorrow for his act so they’d only get ruined. He did do Lucius’ for him and they looked good on him too.
Izzy cracked a yawn halfway through whatever movie it was that Lucius had picked out to watch during those goings on.
“Head to bed,” Lucius elbowed him. “I’ll get the food.”
“Yeah,” he touched one nail gingerly and found it dry. “Night, pup. Pete.”
He got to his feet and used the restroom. The flashes of black while he brushed his teeth were distracting , but not bad. When he walked into his bedroom, he found Lucius sitting on the bed.
“Thought you’d take the couch. Pete’s night.”
“I am,” Lucius reached for him and Izzy walked right into the circle of his arms. “But I wanted a kiss good night. The good kind and I figured you’d want privacy.”
“Yeah,” he breathed out than leaned down to get the very long, detailed kind of kiss that sometimes signaled the end of their evenings, but more often started them off. “Good night, pup.”
Lucius dusted another kiss over Izzy’s cheek, gently pushed him back and stood. “Good night, goblin. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
And it was weirdly not that weird to watch him leave and listen to him and Pete talk in the other room. It was fine to turn off the light and get under the covers, knowing they were both still awake and his bed would stay empty. It would’ve been empty tonight anyway, but he’d gotten kissed and there’d been conversation and company. It wasn’t so bad.
“Mew,” Sweeney jumped up onto the bed and started kneading the spot by Izzy’s feet where he usually slept.
Izzy fell asleep even with the little noises in the other room. In the morning, Pete just walked to the gym with him and Read (who made lots of sympathetic noises upon hearing about the furnace) and it wasn’t that different from days they met up there.
When he got to work, Jim zeroed on his hands almost immediately. They grinned.
“Have a fun sleepover, boss?”
“No thanks to you and your piece of shit futon.”
“Why do you think I have a piece of shit futon?” They rolled their eyes. “Looks good, any way.”
It wasn’t like it became a thing or anything. But maybe once and a while, Izzy would crack open the bottle on his own. The smell held good memories now.
Shelley's instagram story 03/04/2020.
got to get away from here got to get away from here
Ages and ages ago Glass O’Lemonade asked for Pete’s POV on his first meeting with Lucius.
The guy was stunning. Not handsome, not hot. Pete had seen a lot of handsome, hot guys over the years. Objectively some of them had been a lot hotter than the guy Bonnet had just brought in through the backdoor. Pete had slept with hotter guys than him.
He’d never understood the word ‘stunner’ before this though. He was tall, which Pete had always like, and his shoulders were broad, perfect to hold onto. But it was just something about his face. The wry smile, the sweep of his hair, his very presence as he moved into the room that left Pete wordless. No one else seemed to notice his arrival, the game continuing on as if nothing had changed.
“Hey,” Pete elbowed Roach. “Who’s the guy?”
Roach glanced up, then back at his cards. “Stede is trying to find a bartender again. RIP Marcel, I guess.”
“Was that his name?” John frowned. “I thought it was Marcus.”
“That was two guys ago,” Roach shook his head. “I fold.”
The game went on, but Pete’s attention was barely on it. He watched the guy settle on the barstool and the way he answered Stede’s questions with his eyes on the man’s face, posture perfect, but his hands knotted together in his lap. When he got up to start making drinks, he had a slow grace to him, even if his face looked frozen in polite terror.
Don’t be afraid of Bonnet, Pete wanted to tell him. He’s a soft touch.
The man mixed and poured, and then started setting glasses down. When the last one alighted, Pete could see his face fall. Something had gone wrong. The fatigue that crossed his face, the resignation was so familiar that Pete’s chest ached and he was on his feet before he’d thought about what he was doing.
Looking directly at the guy would’ve rendered him useless, so he kept his focus on Bonnet.
“Bonnet!” He shouted.
“Little busy!” Bonnet chirped.
“We were wondering- oh, hey cocktails,” Pete reached for the one that had given the guy agony and tossed it back. He had no idea what had gone wrong with it. Tasted like booze and sugar to him, so it was probably fine. “Anyway, we were thinking about the first number and none of us can actually tap dance.”
It wasn’t hard to distract Bonnet. The guy was easily wooed by the next shiny thought. Satisfied that he’d done what he could, Pete slinked back to the poker table.
“What are you up to?” John asked him.
“Getting us out of learning how to tap dance.”
“Good man.”
The tension in the guy’s face was gone when Pete looked up again. His shoulders had gone loose too. As Pete was accessing him, the guy made eye contact from across the room. Fucking stunner.
Pete found his senses quickly enough to wink. An incandescent smile broke over the man’s face, making his eyes crinkle up.
It had been in Pete’s interest to become bold about his intentions over the years. He wasn’t much good at flirting and he’d gotten rejected often enough to know he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea lookwise. But you could get far by being direct and reasonably polite.
The new bartender met that energy and doubled down on it. Lucius was bold, instantly flirty, and so direct it was a little like being hit by a train. It had been a risk asking if he wanted to get dinner after their cleaning closet suckfest, but again Lucius had met him with the same energy.
He kept on doing that. How could Pete do anything except fall in love with him? Lucius took his hand and tugged him along to new things just as often as he let Pete do the same. They explored the city that Pete had thought he’d known, did things in the bedroom that Pete had never had a partner long enough to be comfortable with trying, and made new little traditions that felt as old as time immediately.
There was no way Pete could know from the first time he carried a mug of coffee to Lucius in bed and then got back under the covers with him that it would be something he did for the rest of his life.
There was no way he could’ve. But even then, in his heart of hearts, he hoped that it would be.
“Izzy dodging touch is second nature” OW OW OW. my heart!!! picturing jim and roach being good at the hands-off-Hands approach but most of the revenge crew strike me as casual platonic touchers. would love to see a little ficlet (or even a 5+1) of all the times people go to touch Izzy and don’t manage to, and then one person who does. if you’re so inclined!!!
(ok first off 'hands-off Hands' is amazing and I love you. here's some of that and yes, you definitely get a 5+1)
Pete
“So.”
They sat across from each other. Lucius had not-so-subtly formally introduced them then gotten up from the table to ‘get something’.
“Yeah,” Izzy’s focus was somewhere over Pete’s left shoulder. Which was a blank wall.
“He set us up, huh?”
“Obviously.” Izzy considered that for a second then added. “Fucking brat.”
That startled a laugh out of Pete and Izzy did finally look at him, a little shifty still around the eyes. “What?”
“He is a brat,” Pete said fondly. “Hot one though. You know the best way to get back to him?”
“What?” Izzy asked, just curious enough not to bark it. Pete counted that as a win.
“When he starts coming back, just laugh. We both will. Then don’t tell him what it was about. It’ll make him nuts.”
“Will it?”
“Just watch.”
Lucius, apparently deciding two minutes was long enough to leave them, looped back. Pete laughed, nothing over the top, just a chuckle. After a second, Izzy joined in and he had a pretty good laugh, actually. One of these days, Pete would get him to do it on purpose, he decided.
“What’s funny?” Lucius asked, sitting down beside Izzy.
“Nothing,” Pete said hurriedly, which of course made Lucius lean in. “Really nothing.”
“C’mon,” Lucius looked between them. “Iz?”
“Not worth explaining.”
“It’s worth it if it was funny!” Lucius declared. “You can’t just not say now.”
And that went on for a few more minutes, much to Pete’s quiet delight. Idly, he went to tap Izzy’s hand to signal that it had been successful, something he’d do to almost everyone he knew. His fingers hit the table. He was sure Izzy’s hand had been there a second ago, but now his arms were folded over his chest.
Huh.
Oluwande
“Hey, can someone help with this?” he called out, hauling in a package that had been left by the back door that weighed a surprising amount.
To his surprise, Izzy manifested in the doorway, holding out his hands. Oluwande wasn’t sure what to make of the man yet. He was a dour presence on the rare nights he was at the bar, and his peace with Eddy seemed tentative at best. But he hadn’t done shit to Oluwande and Jim had a weird curiosity about him.
“Give it,” Izzy held out his hands.
“I mean it’s pretty heavy.”
Izzy stared at him and Oluwande reluctantly handed it over. Izzy’s weight shifted, but his arms barely moved as he carried it inside.
“Where does it go?”
“Uh, probably the storage room?” Oluwande trailed him in, watching him handle the thing with ease. “I have no idea what’s in it, but Luc’ll probably sort it out.”
“Fine,” Izzy slipped behind the bar. Oluwande got out in front of him to get the door. Izzy didn’t turn on the light, but still set it unerringly down on the card table that held a few other boxes.
“Thanks, “ Oluwande went to clap him on the shoulder as Izzy went back out. His hand whistled through the air.
Fucker was fast.
“Whatever,” Izzy mumbled.
Later, Oluwande would ask Jim if he smelled or something, but they confirmed he was fine. Izzy was just fucking weird.
Frenchie
“You’re going down,” Frenchie declared.
“You can certainly try,” Izzy said dryly.
“Would you two calm down?” John sighed. “No one’s keeping score.”
“I am,” Frenchie said tartly. “Drop the ball.”
It was a nice afternoon, a little crisp and very clear. Since their first park party, meeting up for a lazy afternoon had become du jour for small groups of the Revenge. Today was the first time Lucius had managed to get Izzy to come along and he had spent most of it at the grill with Roach, apparently comfortable in the thick cloud of smoke Roach was generating.
When the soccer ball came out though, he’d tracked it noticeably until Frenchie had circled around towards him, dribbling carefully,
“You gonna join in or what? Teams are uneven.” He’d been pretty sure Izzy would refuse, but figured he could at least say he’d offered.
“Fine,” he’d said instead, stolen the ball out from Frenchie’s foot and gave a respectable beeline towards the goal until Jim intercepted him.
Frenchie was not entirely proud of his competitive streak, but here they were anyway. John tossed down the ball reluctantly and then it was on. They had a bit of a threeway scrum, John staying well out of it and then Frenchie broke to left with the ball in his control, headed down the field.
Izzy snapped in out of nowhere, an abrupt kick that sent the ball flying towards John. Frenchie watched it go and neglected to change his own trajectory, tripping Izzy up. The man went down hard, rolling a little so he took it mostly on the shoulder.
“Shit! Sorry! You okay?”
“Fine,” Izzy rolled onto his back.
“You surprsied me,” Frenchie offered and held a hand down to help him up.
Izzy was on his feet beside him in a blink, without reaching back. Then he was gone back down the field. Fuck. Frenchie tailed back after him with a laugh.
The Swede
“Free hugs!” The Swede declared, draping himself around Frenchie’s neck like a scarf.
“Aw, they’re always free though,” Frenchie laughed, patting him on the back. “Did you take something?”
“Why do you ask?” The Swede rubbed his cheek slowly against Frenchie’s shoulder which felt very interesting.
“Just a hunch.”
“Molly,” he admitted. “Everything is so bright!”
“Okay then, Clingy McClingerson. Let’s find you someone who wants to be petted, huh?”
“Okay!”
The birthday party was in full swing, the bar being manned by the catering service. Eddy was wearing a crown of some kind and sitting on the stage like a monarch while Stede dropped grapes in their mouth with a relentless giggle. It sounded like bubbles.
“Hey Olu, you good with someone petting your face for a bit?”
“Sure thing,” Oluwande laughed. “Hey Swede.”
“Hi!” the Swede plopped down into Oluwande’s lap. “Do you have interesting textures?”
“Probably, go ahead and find that out.”
The Swede played with the seams of Oluwande’s shirt while he chatted with a group of people that the Swede though might be queens from amateur night.
“I’m thirsty,” the Swede realized.
“Yeah, that tracks,” Oluwande shoved him gently. “Sit down on an actual chair for a bit, I’ll get you some water.”
The table was kind of sticky. The chair was hard. The Swede got up and wandered off.
Izzy was in a dark corner in the back, the Swede almost stumbling over his boots.
“Hi!” The Swede said brightly. He reached hand out to see if the leather of his jacket might be pleasing and Izzy took a side step.
The Swede stumbled forward and was only saved from faceplanting into the wall by a sudden grip on the back of his shirt.
“He’s over here!” Izzy shouted over the music. The grip turned to a full on pull, then a brisk shove and the Swede found himself facing Oluwande.
“Hi!”
“Hi,” Oluwande shoved a bottle of water into his hands. “Drink that before you dehydrate, Smiley McSmilesson.”
“Okay!”
Stede
“Don’t suppose you want me to fix that? Your hair is a mess from the wind.”
“Fuck all the way off and into the sun, Bonnet.”
“I’m sure I’d just slide back off anyway. What do you use on your hair anyway? Astroglide?”
+1 Pete
The door to from the stairwell opened and Pete groaned with relief as Izzy came through. He got up off the doormat. It was late in the way that made everything seem just a little bit harder.
“Thanks so much for this,” Pete said with relief as Izzy handed over the key. “I’m so sorry.”
“You figure out where they are?”
“Luc has them,” Pete groaned, getting the door open at last. “He just texted back finally. My fault, I’m so used to sticking them in his bag on drag nights, I forgot we weren’t going to the same place. You should come in, you came all this way.”
Izzy did follow him, to his surprise, then headed right for the bathroom which explained that. Izzy had only crossed the threshold once before and then only very reluctantly.
Pete finally got to set down his drag bag. Being locked out for well over an hour had put the time obscenely late and he felt doubly guilty.
If it hadn’t been for the sure knowledge that Lucius, John and Frenchie wouldn’t be back from their guest gig until tomorrow, Pete might’ve held out. As far as he knew, Izzy was simply the only one with a spare. It was so rare all four of them weren’t around that it had never seemed necessary. Clearly wrong. Pete would have to get a dupe made and give it to Roach at least.
“You want something to drink?” Pete offered when Izzy re-emerged. He’d started to assemble his own late night snack. Just cheese and crackers, something so he wouldn’t wake up ravenous.
“Water,” Izzy decided. He looked a little rumpled and something occurred to Pete with a sinking stomach.
“Did I wake you up?”
“It’s 3 AM,” Izzy planted his elbows on the countertop.
“Yeah, that’s not a given for us, but I guess it is for you. Sorry again.”
“Stop apologizing. What kind of crackers are those?”
Pete pushed the box towards him, let him examine them as he got down a glass. To his surprise, when he turned around, Izzy had finished cutting the cheese into very neat cubes and was clearly chewing through one of them, along with a cracker.
“You can crash in Frenchie’s bed if you don’t want to head home again,” Pete offered. “I’d say John’s, but he stripped the sheets before he left and didn’t get around to washing them.”
“It’s fine. I’ll head out in a few.”
They ate quietly. Pete wasn’t sure he’d ever actually seen Izzy eat something and he did so with impressive determination. Not sloppy or anything, but with a mechanical speed that meant Pete had to hustle to make sure he got enough of the plate.
“Can I ask you something?” Izzy already looked like he’d regretted asking as soon as the words left his lips.
“Sure, what’s up?”
Izzy hesitated, then plunged forward, “Do you ever...how do you deal with me even existing? It never seems to bother you.”
“Oh, the big one,” Pete nodded. “Truth?”
“Yeah or I wouldn’t fucking ask.”
“Sometimes it does. You two have something going on that I don’t get and it’s really intense.”
Izzy ran a hand through his hair, “It is.”
“I can’t give him that. Sometimes I think maybe I failed somehow. That I can’t do that.” It was something he’d turned over a lot when Lucius started getting serious about Izzy, but then Lucius had agreed to marry him and that had been a pretty good reassurance as things went. “But then he comes home and he’s happy to be here and he’s not shy about showing me that. Works out.”
“I can’t give him what you do,” Izzy agreed and didn’t even sound that upset about it. “I’m trying to make peace with that, but you don’t let it show like I do.”
“Because I’m not on of life's many assholes,” Pete took a sip of his own glass of water. “And you’re pretty much their king.”
Izzy gave him a hard stare and then Pete had to laugh. Izzy snorted, then to Pete’s surprise laughed along with him.
“Listen,” Pete said gently, when the laugh died off, “we’re in this together, basically. I think we should both get a fucking A for effort on this whole experience.”
“Be my first goddamn A on anything.”
“Same, man, same.”
“I should go,” Izzy yawned.
“Yeah, bed is calling me too.” Pete walked him to the door then hesitated. “Normally I’d hug someone who ran across town in the middle of the night for me.”
Izzy considered him, then held out his hand. With a grin, Pete shook it.
“Good night, Pete.”
“Night, Izzy. Thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
But of course Pete did mention it. Lucius was delighted.
With the upcoming American holiday, do any of the mainverse characters celebrate Thanksgiving?
(they do, but here's a glimpse of a particularly special one in 2026)
“You okay, babe?” Pete hooked his chin over Lucius’ shoulder. The sketch taking shape was distinctly miserable, a crack in the sidewalk with a widening abyss inside it.
“Yeah,” Lucius sighed. “I’m fine, I swear. Just a little melancholy about the holiday.”
“You don’t have to go over to Izzy’s, you know. You could bring him over here. I know the food thing might be tricky, but I think we can manage not to kill him.”
“No, I know. But I don’t want to mess with your tradition. It’s sweet and if we’re there it’ll change things.”
“Probably for the better,” Pete kissed his cheek. “It’s an open offer, okay?”
Keep reading
“Yeah, okay.”
The Revenge folk all had their own takes on Thanksgiving and Lucius thought they were all pretty good.
Jim and Oluwande spent it with Oluwande's family and they did things traditionally. Once Jim had figured out how to make mashed potatoes, they were pretty confident about the whole event and usually distributed leftover sandwiches at the club the next day with Dolly’s blessing.
Stede and Eddy went to Mary's house which was probably awkward as hell, but that way the kids have the holiday with everyone together. Alma’s friends joined in various groupings over the years, rounding out the table.
Roach always took the whole week off and met up with his parents wherever their boat was docked to travel with them. He’d send photos of the distinctly not-American feasts he was having and describe them in detail with an open offer to attempt to replicate them on any willing guinea pigs when he got back.
Then there were Pete, Buttons, Frenchie and John, who had cobbled together their own traditions. Every year they each cooked one dish without comparing notes so they wind up with a mystery buffet that they took over to Buttons house to eat. There was the infamous year of All Pie that Pete talked about with amused nostalgia. The food was apparently followed by a Twilight Zone marathon.
While he was regularly invited to this bonanza, Lucius usually went to his mother's house and stayed the night, coming home in a by-now traditionally shitty mood.
Then last summer had happened. Lucius hadn’t even wanted to think about the holiday after the disaster of coming out to her and had opted to spend the day with Izzy, both of them determined not to think of the holiday at all.
This year, Lucius was pretty sure Izzy had turned down an invitation to his sister’s house to provide the same again and he was feeling guilty about it. Still, it was the man’s choice and Lucius really didn’t want to insert himself into the long-standing patchwork feast tradition.
It’d be fine. He would be fine. Hell, he’d probably be in a better mood than if he did go to his mother’s house. At least this way he’d get laid and no one would say passive-aggressive shit about his livelihood.
Still. It was hard not to feel a little weird about waking up on Thanksgiving morning (well, afternoon, it was a day off) with a kiss goodbye, the sounds of industry and then silence. He lay in bed, and indulged in feeling sorry for himself for a bit. Or at least, he tried. His phone rang before he could get into a really deep funk. It was Stede, sounding breathless,
“Hello! Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he repeated. “What’s up?”
“I know it’s a terrible day to ask, but I just got an alert that the backdoor of the club is open through the security app. It doesn’t seem like anyone opened it, but you know how windy it was last night. Can I be awful and ask you to take a look before you go to your plans? I don’t think anyone else will be close enough.”
“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Who forgot to lock it? Was it the Swede again?”
“Probably me!” Eddy’s voice sounded distant and tinny. They were probably in the car. “Sorry!”
“You owe me,” he grumbled.
“Thank you,” Stede sighed. “If you can get there in the next half-hour, before someone gets opportunistic, I’ll owe you two.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“As you should. Have a good holiday!”
“Yeah, thanks, you too.”
At least it forced him out of bed and into clothes. He texted Izzy as he went.
Lucius: Stopping by the bar first. Someone left a door open. Then onto your place.
Izzy: ok.
Laconic. Great. He hoped that wasn’t a sign for the way the day would go. He wasn’t in the mood to pull teeth. The train schedule was probably all fucked up and Lucius decided to walk. It was cold, but not bitingly and after walking for a few minutes, he felt all right. Everything felt nearly normal, even with the stores closed. People were still going about their business, cars in the streets and garbage out on the curb for tomorrow’s delayed pickup.
When he got close to the Revenge, he picked up speed. He suddenly very much wanted the familiarity of the bar and the familiar smell of the cleaner they used on the floors. Maybe it was missing home, in its own way.
The door to the back was not only unlocked, but propped open. Lucius swore and approached more cautiously. He heard people inside too. Great. He was going to have to break up some party and hope that he didn’t have to call the cops. With a sinking heart, he stepped inside.
“Oh, you’re right on time!” Stede greeted him, looking particularly cozy in a kelly green sweater.
“...what the fuck?” Lucius’ hand was still on the doorknob.
Behind Stede, the entire bar was lit up. The usual house lights that only got turned on the end of the night were gleaming and all the smaller tables had been pushed together into two long lines. Food groaned over every surface and there were people everywhere. All of their people. Eddy and Jim were standing over a particularly large turkey with some wickedly large knives. Izzy and Read were moving folding chairs in around tables to add extra seats. Mary and Dolly were comparing something on their phones and laughing while Doug listened attentively to Ziva. Oluwande was guiding Charlie and Ava's kids through putting out utensils. Alma and Ingrid was sitting on the stage making construction paper chains
Pete was holding Pickle, who was attempting to scale to the top of his head while Delly tried to get her little socks back on. Buttons and Audra were arranging plates of cookies on the bar. Marvin and Roach were definitely having some kind of debate over the green beans that John was eavesdropping on with amusement. Frenchie had out his guitar, strumming idly, a meandering background music to it all.
“Let’s call it a late birthday gift,” Stede grinned at him. “I had the idea months ago, to do a big all-family party for the day. And I thought...well. I usually rely on you to arrange these things.”
“Yeah,” Lucius blinked rapidly. “Yeah, I’m good at that.”
“You are,” Stede agreed and crossed the space between them to pull Lucius into a hug. “But I decided it was my turn. So it’s all done. You don’t need to organize anything. Just come and have a seat with your family and enjoy, all right?”
Lucius was very glad for Stede’s ridiculously thick sweater. It had to absorb a few tears just then. Stede held him and it was a confident, strong hug. The man had gotten good at this at some point and Lucius just held him back.
“How’d you even manage all this?” he asked when he felt he could trust his voice again.
“Oh, I’m not helpless, you know. I can make a spreadsheet and make a few phone calls. Easy.”
“Eddy called in Izzy, didn’t she?”
“...please don’t mention it again.”
Lucius laughed waterily and brushed a kiss on Stede’s cheek, “Thank you. Your sacrifice is appreciated.”
Eventually, they would separate and Lucius would get his favorite seat in the world, jammed between Izzy and Pete. Izzy even had a wrapped plate that Roach had presented him with, so they got to really eat together. The entire bar was filled with voices and noise and eventually, music too.
“Thank you,” Lucius turned to Pete and kissed him thoroughly when everyone else was distracted.
“What for?” Pete asked, pink and pleased.
“I know Stede didn’t think of this all on his own.”
“Aw, he did,” Pete insisted. “I maybe just implied a few things. It was okay?”
“Okay? This is amazing. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
It wouldn’t become a tradition, everyone would go back to their respective plans next year for the most part. Lucius would even go back to his mother’s house with some very strict boundaries in place and it would be fine. Not great, but fine. But for this one year, there was a golden memory that he would take out and admire from time to time. It was something to be thankful for